


Complicated (But Only With You)

by Take_Me_To_My_Fragile_Dreams



Category: The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Financial Issues, Harry gets him to admit it, M/M, Peter needs Harry's help, Pole Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 13:17:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1606547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Take_Me_To_My_Fragile_Dreams/pseuds/Take_Me_To_My_Fragile_Dreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone wanted his money. It figured that the one person who needed it <em>(who he was willing to give it to)</em> was doing everything he could not to ask for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Complicated (But Only With You)

His name is Peter Parker  _(the one who slips out of the shadows of his past)_. He stands at the bottom of the stairs, all hopeful doe eyes and worried lips and Harry cannot just let him go when he has tried to help him; when  _he_ has come to  _him_ , after all these years.

“It’s good to see you.” Harry smiles, leaning into Peter’s embrace.

_(He means it)_

* * *

When Peter says that his relationship is complicated, Harry thinks he can imagine just what is going on.  _(Though really, what is so complicated for this girl, Gwen Stacy, with someone like Peter chasing after her?)_  He’s not lying when he says that he doesn’t do complicated, but that doesn’t mean that he hasn’t seen it play out.

Complicated hardly ever ends well.

_(Complicated isn’t exactly what Harry thinks)_

* * *

He comes to meet him at an unassuming coffee shop, shoulders hunched and hands digging into his pockets. His hair is a windblown mess—as always—but Harry pauses when Peter lifts his face to offer a smile. There’s a hickey on his friend’s neck, large and dark and marked with fading teeth marks. He wonders, belatedly, if it was enjoyable. He wonders, after, if he should worry about the fact that his hand is gripping his cup too tightly; that anger is boiling beneath his veins.

He smiles slowly instead, inviting Peter to sit.

_(It seems complicated has sorted itself out)_

* * *

 “I’m sorry!” Peter panted, cheeks flushed as he bent over, hands on his knees. “Work kept me later than I thought and-”

“Work?” He questions curiously, tilting his head to the side.

His friend seems to freeze for a minute, face turning a deeper red at that before he straightens, avoiding Harry’s eyes. “Yeah, I um, I have work every Friday and Saturday.”

“What do you do?”

The shade of red Peter’s face is taking on is akin to the famous Spiderman’s suit. “Y-you know, just, this and that. Here and there.”

And isn’t that curious?

* * *

The second time it happens, Harry mentions it.

“So I take it you got back together with Gwen then?” He questions idly, flipping through company files as Peter lounges on his couch, doing college work.

“What?”

Harry raises an eyebrow at his confused friend, blue eyes questioning as he gestures towards Peter’s collarbone, where the hint of a hickey peeks out of his shirt. “I must say, Miss Stacy didn’t strike me for someone so possessive.” He ignores the twinge that that causes, silently reminding himself  _not yours._

“I uh, no.” Peter shakes his head, looking sheepish and adorably embarrassed. “Gwen went to England actually. Last week.”

And yes, that certainly is a surprise.

“Got someone new in your sights then?” He teases, flashing a smirk.

“Something like that,” Peter mumbles, looking away with a blush.

* * *

Harry has some idea of the financial situation Peter’s in. Has heard him talk about Aunt May and money and college and making ends meet  _(everything he has never had to worry about before)_. He knows that things are strained, and yet his friend has never tried to ask for help, never told him these things to try and gain sympathy or charity. It has always been with a determination in his eyes to make ends meet, to do it on his own, that Peter confides in him and he knows that he should probably leave it alone, should probably let whatever Peter’s doing go because it seems to be working, but he’s  _curious_ dammit.

_(Harry just can’t help himself.)_

* * *

It doesn't take him long to find out just _what_ exactly, Peter's been doing to make ends meet. A few strings pulled and he has the exact name and address of where his friend works.

_(He isn’t sure what to think as he stares at the lit up sign displayed on his computer.)_

* * *

The club is dark, lit up with dim red lights and full of comfortable chairs and sofas that contain various crowds all looking at the poles spotlighted in various stages around the room. No one recognizes him, too caught up in their own matters to look twice at the guy in Armani with a soft blue scarf and glasses that he pockets once inside.

He scans the club once, before zeroing in on the bar. The barista is attractive, with large breasts and a simpering smile and if it had been any other night,  _(if it had been anyone but Peter)_  he might have answered her suggestive words with his own. Instead he orders a drink, checks his watch and waits.

_(It won’t be long now)_

* * *

He has finished his drink by the time Peter finally emerges to take one of the many stages, lithe body covered in tight clothing that is shed easily and with little effort. He draws quite the crowd as he twists and wraps himself around his pole, body almost seeming to defy gravity every time he does a complicated move that has him arching oh so beautifully. It takes his breath away.

_(He doesn’t do complicated, Harry reminds himself silently.)_

He doesn’t look away.

* * *

“Peter,” Harry murmurs as his friend jumps down from the stage, dollar bills stuffed into his tight boxers  _(the only clothing he still wears)._

His friend freezes, eyes horrified as he wraps his arms around himself, looking ashamed and suddenly oh so small. “Har, I…”

“Come on,” He interrupts, glaring at the many eyes that track Peter’s body as he wraps his fingers around the other male’s wrist, guiding him through the crowd. _(Mine_ , his eyes hiss.  _All mine)_

Peter stumbles after him, probably one of the few times Harry has seen him be clumsy in the few weeks they’ve been meeting up. He doesn’t stop until they’re in one of the back rooms, safe from prying eyes, wandering hands and filthy bills.  _(Peter doesn’t need their money)_

“Harry…” Peter begins uncertainly, arms tight around his stomach. “Why are you here?”

“If you needed money this badly you could have just asked.” He stated bluntly, raising an eyebrow as he shrugged off his jacket, holding it out to his friend.

“I didn’t- No, Harry, no.” He sounds horrified as he hesitantly accepts the jacket, tugging it around himself protectively. “I don’t want to take your money. I don’t want you to think that I’m just- just using you-”

“Idiot,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes as he steps forward, smirking slightly. “You’re my best friend, not some gold digger. I know that.”

“But-”

“Peter,” Harry interrupts sternly  _(gently)_. “You can have as much money as you need. You don’t have to do this.”

Peter swallows, eyes glistening slightly as he looks away, breath hitching when his friend catches his chin in between his fingers, turning his head back to him. “I don’t…”

“What happened to taking pictures?” He questions, shifting closer  _(complicated, a voice warns)._

“It wasn’t enough,” Peter grimaces, peering up at him. “We needed more.”

“How much?”

“I- what?” He blinks.

“How much do you need?”

“Harry, no-”

He sighs, rolling his eyes as he leans forward, silencing his friend’s mouth with his own. “I said how much?” Harry breathes, lips brushing against Peter’s.

He shivers. “Just—college is the only real problem. But I can’t ask you to-”

“Yes you can,” he corrects gently, running his thumb over his friend’s bottom lip. “Ask.”

He hesitates, eyes unsure as he grips Harry’s expensive suit tightly  _(Harry doesn’t even care about the wrinkles)._  “I…”

“Ask.” He repeats, eyes calm and smile reassuring.

“Please, help.” Peter finally whispers, pressing closer.

And Harry smiles, presses his lips to Peter’s forehead, promises: “Of course.”

_(Maybe he does do complicated)_

**Author's Note:**

> http://my101fragiledreams.tumblr.com/


End file.
